Peace

Be a bringer of light

Then God said, “Let there be light, and there was light……” in the muck and mire of this world’s mess the way we know it today, there is still and always light. This morning, I was surprised by the crescent moon peeking through the window where I usually see Venus. (She hadn’t come up yet).

I thought, how could someone not believe? How could they just take for granted the moon still hanging there after all these years? Sitting there on this spinning planet, that’s what I thought. And of this verse….

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities–His eternal power and divine nature–have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse. Romans 1:20

Everything was perfect. Everything according to God and creation itself, was good, beyond good. In fact, even in our skewed version, dulled and marred by the effects of sin’s corrosion, it is still blindingly beautiful at times. Can you even imagine how it was in the beginning? We are squinting through a keyhole, closing one eye to get a better view. The Bible puts it like this:

“Now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” (by God) my paraphrase in parenthesis.

I always look for hearts in creation. Do you see it? God’s love spills over into all creation, us being His very own crown jewel. His love beats throughout all things. It’s so easy, looking around at the chaos we’ve created down here to forget who is truly in control. But we can be assured, God remains on the throne.

Do you not know?
    Have you not heard?
Has it not been told you from the beginning?
    Have you not understood since the earth was founded?
22 He sits enthroned above the circle of the earth,
    and its people are like grasshoppers.
He stretches out the heavens like a canopy,
    and spreads them out like a tent to live in.
23 He brings princes to naught
    and reduces the rulers of this world to nothing.
24 No sooner are they planted,
    no sooner are they sown,
    no sooner do they take root in the ground,
than he blows on them and they wither,
    and a whirlwind sweeps them away like chaff. Isaiah 40: 21-24

If you haven’t yet sensed it, we are in a Spiritual battle that has raged since sin entered the world. And if you don’t believe in the concept of sin, there is not much I can say. The battle is heating up, but we don’t have to fear. We know the outcome and God is in the business of restoring our crumbling creation, and our crumbling souls too if we let Him.

Israel is being persecuted all over the world, such as we never thought we’d see again after World War II. We are seeing history repeating itself, and God is watching. He is waiting for the right time, and prayerfully, we are waiting with Him. The Prophecies have all been fulfilled. All except one. The time is short, as Billy Graham used to say in every sermon:

“Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” 2 Corinthians 6:2


I leave you with hope and the future as it will be someday, from the book of Isaiah…….God is, and always will be in the business of loving, and restoration:

Isaiah 2: 1-4: The word which Isaiah the son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem. Now it will come about that in the last days, the Mountain of the house of the Lord will be established as the chief of the mountains and will be raised above the hills: and all the nations will stream to it. And many peoples will come and say, “Come let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of Jacob; that He may teach us concerning His ways, and that we may walk in His paths.” For the law will go forth from Zion and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. And He will judge between the nations and will render decisions for many peoples; and they will hammer their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not lift up sword against nation, and NEVER again will they learn war.

I don’t know about you, but that sounds mighty good to me about now.

Breath of life

Scout and Atticus enjoying the rain on the windows and bird watching.

I used to have a vibrant prayer life, I don’t know why it used to be easy to pray and now it isn’t. But praise? That has always been an easy thing for me to do. It’s a gift I’ve been given, not anything I did on my own. In the half-light, I thought of David and remember thinking, still mostly asleep, “he wrote himself comfort.” He wrote himself (or I should say prayed out) because really, before they were words, they were prayers. As I lay there reciting some Psalms I know by heart I fell into the most delicious of sleeps. I awoke later more refreshed than I have been for quite a while. I don’t have a lot of Scripture memorized but what I do has been so valuable during times before I fall asleep, or times of stress.

I awoke this morning the first time at around 6. It was dark and I heard the gentle patter of rain outside. My first words were “thank you God for the new day, let everything that has breath praise the Lord, squirrels, chipmunks, cows, chickens.” I don’t know why I thought of those particular animals, but I did. I guess because I thought of this crazy squirrel that we almost hit yesterday. I swear he went right through the wheels. It was the same road, and I assume the same squirrel I saw yesterday dart out to the middle of the same road and back. It’s a red squirrel and they are kind of crazy, (kind of like a little red cat I know) Not mentioning any names (Scout) we love him so.

Conjuring up the Christmas Spirit is always hit and miss and sometimes elusive. At certain moments throughout the day, it comes whispering in. I bought this book for myself, and I highly recommend it. It’s called “Let the Earth Receive Her King” by Alastair Begg. This is a passage I highlighted that gave me comfort this morning:

Whatever lies in our past or our present, we are never beyond being used by God to further His glorious eternal plan

This is my first Christmas retired, and I heartily recommend it. Not having to go anywhere in the mornings is like a dream. We put the Christmas tree up on the patio because (the kitten factor) and I love looking at the lights through the window as I sit and read. I can actually bake again since I have a real stove so that has been a real joy. Recently, we had our usual brunch at Grand Island Mansion, a treasure of the California Delta. When we were finishing up to leave, I was shocked, pleased and surprised to see my friend Darrell who was best man at my wedding and my husband’s best friend. They had moved to a neighboring state, and I hadn’t seen them in a few years. It was a great ending to a perfect morning.

It’s been a wonderful Christmas season full of joys, a few moments of melancholy, peace and overwhelming thankfulness for a God who loves us and strives with me each day despite my stubborn nature. Taxes and jury duty and life lurking round the corner but in all these things we are still more than conquerors. (Romans 8:37)

Merry Christmas to all and hope and blessings going forward to the New Year!

Finally Home

Bless the Lord, O my soul and forget not all his benefits: who forgives all your iniquities, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from destruction, who crowns you with loving kindness and tender mercies……Psalm 103:2-4

The Rumba is working its way around the house, and I have two little kitties nearby. They have finally settled after wrestling and bouncing off the walls for the past 3 hours. One is sitting in the decorative bowl on the table and one right beside him. When we got them, they both fit! “They” are Atticus and Scout, respectively, and a constant source of joy, having been cat less since Briggs died in 2020. 

This is retirement, the first week in. Several times over the past few days, I have found myself in a state of wonder at how incredibly blessed I am, how at peace, how content. On my first walk around the park where our new (refurbished) home is situated I dug out my old iPod and selected the playlist I used to walk Desert Harbor in Arizona. It was like I was home, really home. 

Living in a very small space for the past 8 years really makes you appreciate the everyday things. A new washer and dryer that we almost worshipped the first few weeks. No more laundromat! Our own garbage can, for another. We never used the can at Aunt’s house because she was very fussy about her garbage. 

I’m home, I’m home, I’m home and I never have to move again. What a feeling……I can scarcely describe it. God is so good. At first, we kind of poo-pooed this park. It wasn’t as “perfect and pristine” as we liked. We had our eye on another in a neighboring town. It was well-kept and the space rent was lower. There were a few that came up for sale but inside repairs would have been costly. It just wasn’t meant to be.

Elaine wasn’t sold when we looked at this place, but I secretly thought “I could live here.” There was a kind of strange room off the living room. Back in the day it might have been called a “family room,” separating both sides of the house. Elaine turned in circles and exclaimed, “What is this room?” I am happy to say that it has become a beautiful library. (Pictures to follow in another post) Wayfair is our new best friend. Of course, you have to build whatever you buy and thankfully Elaine is very talented. I was the assistant handing tools and fetching screws and bolts.

First, we made an offer which they didn’t accept. Then it fell through twice more. We made another offer, with concessions and it was accepted. 

Here’s another strange thing. Over and over, I have had this dream for years of two big closets. I just go from one to the other with a sense of amazement in the dream. Well, yes, you guessed it. I have two walk-in closets. Thank you, Jesus! The second walk-in has become the litter box room and storage for Christmas.

Each day, I wake up so very, very thankful. Life is good on a Sunday morning in June. 

But I have trusted in your mercy; My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me. Psalm 13:5,6

Where there’s breath…..

“In the entire history of the universe, let alone in your own history, there has never been another day just like today, and there will never be another just like it again. Today is the point to which all your yesterdays have been leading since the hour of your birth. It is the point from which all your tomorrows will proceed until the hour of your death. If you were aware of how precious today is, you could hardly live through it. Unless you are aware of how precious it is, you can hardly be said to be living at all.”
— Frederick Buechner

Oh, how I miss this man’s words. His writing has been such a part of my life for so many years that it almost came as a shock that the biography was speaking of him in past tense. I had forgotten that he had died in 2022 at the age of 96. I have been enveloped in so many emotions since my brother’s death in April of this year and then both my parents before that in 2022, Buechner’s death slipped out of my consciousness. He had a way of capturing real life the way few writers can.

Lately, things have been better. Life is moving along the way it does, whether we are ready or not. And Christmas, (thank God) always comes. I don’t mean the Holiday and all the stuff, but the actual fact that is reality for us as Christian believers. That we have been redeemed. That God saw our sorry state and thought He needed to do something to bring us back from the brink. Bring us back to Him. We watched a movie last night, and it was really very sweet. It was about a group of British commuters on a train that saw each other every day but never really spoke to each other. One idealistic young man decided to announce that he wanted to throw a Christmas party for all the commuters (strangers really). Most thought he was crazy. The idea was slow to take off, and in the end, he was very discouraged and cancelled the party. But the miracle part of the story was when people actually started to talk and get to know one another.

Well, in true happy-ending Christmas movie magic, they all surprise him by luring him to his office and throwing the party anyway. It was a smashing success. One person on that train chose to take a risk and make a difference. It wasn’t easy but he was persistent. Until he wasn’t. It’s true of all of us. We give up on ourselves, we give up on each other. It seems the world is crazier than ever before. But one thing, well, one Person anyway, hasn’t changed. God still waits in the wings of our lives until we beckon Him in. What I always say is that:

Where there’s breath, there’s hope.

We don’t have to look far around here to see the hopelessness of humanity at every turn. The other day we were at the local post office and there was a woman wearing only a bra and skimpy leggings hugging the Christmas tree that was in the lobby. Everywhere we go we see encampments of desperation at every turn. The thought comes:

Christ came for a hopeless weary world such as this.

God didn’t wait until I cleaned up and made myself presentable to redeem me, He came when I was still a mess. A 13-year-old kid who nevertheless somehow knew that I needed saving. And I still do, every single day. We all do. I grasped my mom’s hand for strength back then, as I rose from the pew to walk the aisle down to the front to make my public declaration. Thankfully God doesn’t wait until we are good enough, because we never can be. He waits until we acknowledge our deep need to be redeemed of everything that is wrong within us that we are powerless to change.

And that’s the good news that is still good news to ALL the people. I love how the angels said to the Shepherds, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which will be for ALL people.” And all we have to do is believe it, embrace it, live it. And each day is another opportunity to start over. Yesterday might have been a disaster, but today is a new day. Chaos certainly reigns down here, but Christ came for this kind of world. And we can have His peace today.

Every year it seems like I miss the first two Advent Sundays and this year was no exception. I feel bad about it, but there it is. This has been a hard year. God knows my heart and he knows yours. He knows we are all just doing the best we can down here. Sometimes we just need to give ourselves a break. Slow down, breathe easy, especially this time of year. Things can be left undone, but people can’t.

Finally, Christmas means that we celebrate because there is always something worth celebrating. Even with all the conflicting evidence we see around us in the world today, our world was and is, redeemed once and for all. Starting with the Manger.

In His peace, Lori

365 Plus 1

“I just heard “She’s gone” in my sleep” 

“Mom passed on October 2nd, 2021, at 3:40 AM”

As I opened my iPad to write this post, these were the two statements I had recorded here 365 days ago yesterday. A whole year and millions of breaths since her soul passed into Heaven, taking a part of mine with it. I hadn’t remembered the day, but my sister-in-law did. For some odd reason I thought it was the 6th. 

Maybe somewhere inside I knew. I had chosen the morning to finally box up her photo albums and clothes she had saved of mine that I had in my car partly because I didn’t know where else to put them or maybe I just wasn’t quite ready to turn them loose. 

I’m still making a weekly pilgrimage to the cemetery to do the flowers and it’s weird because I never wanted or felt a need to do this with either Grandparents or even my husband. Then again, there are no rules in grieving and that’s okay. Even as I thoughtfully arrange my Hobby Lobby bouquet, I have to smile, because I can almost hear both of them say, “Give it a rest already……”

Life stops for some and keeps going for others. Inexplicably. This morning I came across a blog post someone else wrote that I had to share in the aftermath of hurricane Ivan, you can read it here. As I very well know, there are no guarantees we will get another day. That makes today the most important day. Inhale deeply, everyone! 

Don’t just walk, see things when you walk. If you are in good health, thank God. If you aren’t, thank Him even more that He is with you in it. He once walked this earth and felt all the things you are feeling right now. If you are feeling despised and rejected, remember He was too. 

I’ve been reading Ezekiel, talk about a crappy job assignment. None of us has the right to complain! Year after year, they didn’t listen to any of his warnings. I venture to say that none of our employers has ever had to lay on our left side for 390 days, and an additional 40 on our right (for the sin of Judah). And even when they finally did concede that he had been right all along in his prophecy, they still didn’t act on it. 

There is a message there for all of us. Basically, we Christians are all little Ezekiels. We know there is Something and Someone better after we leave this place we call home, but too often we remain silent and distracted by the world. Ezekiel warned and obeyed until it hurt. 

Sometimes I don’t know why or how I can keep a lid on my wonder at God and how good He is. But if these words can be a little leaking of hope and joy out into the world then there is redemption in that. 

I leave you with these words from Paul.

“Finally, brethren (sistren too), whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything is worthy of praise, dwell on these things.” Philippians 4:8

Old Friend

It washes over me at unexpected times. That a chunk of my life is missing, E asks me if I want to go by my old home. (She knows I will say yes.) She goes by too after Walmart runs to see what’s what. What changes the new owners might be making. When I drive by it’s as if I’m gazing into the familiar face of a cherished old friend, not a place I once lived. No matter how it changes. I will remember…..

I remember little girl yellow and a record player on the floor. And ruffled chenille on the bed. My Mom so mad at the dog for lifting his leg right after she washed it. I remember backyard Birthdays, sheet thrown over the line and fishing for prizes which my brother and his friend fastened from the other side. Names of neighborhood crushes scrawled underneath the windowsills.

And sounds…..the funky doorbell I can hear so clearly. The particular slam of the screen door, the sound of my Mom singing and her voice telling me it was time to get up for school. My groan as I threw the covers over my head wishing for Saturday. 

On the other side of town, I see a sad row of buildings on Main taken over by the homeless, now rampant with drugs and stolen piles of garbage. In my mind I remember the sound our shuffling feet climbing the stairs to the upper room of the Mandarin House Chinese restaurant. We thought we were in Chinatown. The gentle clink of teacups and saucers. Okazaki’s was somewhere downstairs, the Japanese shop where they made the best snow cones. 

Memories can save us when everything around us is unfamiliar and changing. We walk about in a world we no longer recognize. We talk about it every day. Are we, (the sixty-somethings) the last to remember a world that was somewhat sane? 

Of course human nature has always been the same but I truly believe we are just now beginning to see the harmful effects of endless social media. It can’t be healthy to have events plastered our faces at every turn. The mind reels from it. There is no time for the mind to recover from one tragedy when you’re presented with another. 

But thankfully, some things will always remain the same. The important things. God knew there would come a day when we would need to derive comfort from looking up at the unchanging planets. He knew we would always need to gaze into the innocent eyes of a newborn to keep cynicism at bay. And to stand in wide-eyed wonder on the shore of an ocean which seems endless. 

It is Sunday, June 5, 2022, the day of Pentecost. Fifty days after He rose. And God is still in control. And I remember one day long ago when the Holy Spirit touched down in my little world. On a cold, foggy, miraculous December day close to Christmas. 

The Spirit will not always strive with men, but He was with me that day. And He’s with me still. I close my eyes and hear the peace murmured, the rustle of clothes and muffled kneelers leftover from Episcopalian days, and the Doxology from my Baptist days. And singing “Morning is Broken” on the dewy grass at a Methodist Sunrise Easter service. 

Life is good. Because God is.

Miscellaneous

Lassoing thoughts, figuring out what to keep

What to release

The writing process, even the phrase 

Taunts. “As if,” my own voice echoes 

Mocks. 

If no one is there to read, is it still a story? 

Because some things are too beautiful 

Not to share. 

Summer will always be 

The cool of the garden hose held over our heads

And “Let’s make skeletons!” 

Plopping down to feel the warmth of the driveway

Getting up to compare imprints

Purple Koolaid when it was still innocent

Remnants of powder on the cold metal rim.

Summer deliciousness. 

The hope of a warped chime from two blocks away

Rushing inside to get a thin dime

Missiles and Dreamsicles

Stubbed toes and hard-baked plastic flipflops

(Called thongs in those days)

All innocence must be kept like a treasure. 

And not forgotten. 

Writers are the guardians of recorded time.

It’s morning, and it’s God’s day.

I sip coffee and it tastes like gratitude.

I recognize for the umpteenth time

this is a sacred moment.

I stoop over the keyboard, the cat having stolen my chair.

I grant her a moment too.

Just like God has granted me so many over the years.

And this is present day and I summon the past in the form of a real

book. I know there are plenty of people like me,

who shun electronic readers.

Who know that reading is a feast for the senses.

The feel….smell….sound…..of a page.

The look of a particular font

even the thickness of the paper, all conjured up to make it

an experience.

Even before the first word is read.

A Pretty Nice Life

It’s been awhile since I posted anything here in my little corner. So much has been going on. Sometimes it still feels surreal that Mom and Dad are both gone. Elaine says, “You will feel a bit like an orphan,” and she’s right. We had the garage sale and the house is mostly empty. The cousins came and we did a walk through. Shared some memories of 1127 Glenhurst long ago. Of exploding homemade firecrackers and waking up to the screaming engines of the hydro-boat races on Fourth of July mornings at the lake. 

This war that has just been started is hitting me hard. Several times I have cried, prayed over the pictures I see on the news. What is it all for? Maybe it’s because I’m thinking of Grandma and her family coming over on the ship, immigrants from Russia themselves. How bad must it have been to risk that horrific trip across the Atlantic to land on Ellis Island with only hopes and dreams of a better life? 

This morning I feel incredibly lucky. We’ve been living in this small space going on 6 years now. It hasn’t been easy, but we have made it work and made it homey. But we are longing for a real home again. And we are closer now to being there, wherever there is. Real estate is ridiculous in California but there are places to be had up in the foothills. And neighboring states close by are a possibility. 

I think of the Ukrainians on the run, fearing for their lives, their homes. I settle in my cozy spot by the window, with second steaming mug of coffee, reassuring stack of books nearby, within eyesight. This old tub is burdened with books in every storage place. Elaine says its like the long, long trailer only it’s not rocks its books. 

The other day I lifted the storage under the bed and took all 15 or so out. “I’m cleaning books out,” I said. She was hopeful. My measly little stack of four didn’t make a dent, but it was something. “Hey, it’s a start,” I say. 

And it’s another Saturday and the collectors are coming for the throwaway stuff at Mom and Dad’s house today. And today, I will exercise, and thank God for our freedom as my heart aches for those whose lives will never be the same. 

More 5-7-5

Stuff of Dreams

To a book lover

All Never-ending stories

Like eternity

A book lover’s dream

One in the works, two in queue

In the wings, rapture.

Old friends these bookmarks

One with tiny cat teethmarks

Fondly remembered.

How to explain joy?

For the bibliophile…

The book never ends.

5-7-5

Fall at the lake

One train meanders…..

Another answers its call

Melancholy dawn.

 

Melancholy train

Early morning answered by

Another close by.

 

Slow rumble on tracks

I wait for melancholy

Whistle brings hope

 

Early morning train

Fills my heart with hopeful strains

Sadness and longing

 

The haiku is a Japanese poetic form that consists of three lines, with five syllables in the first line, seven in the second, and five in the third. The haiku developed from the hokku, the opening three lines of a longer poem known as a tanka. The haiku became a separate form of poetry in the 17th century.